The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1887-04-21

ElI.L w ~
Judge, I'm afraid we can't get on.
The horses can hardly founder
through the snow now. The wheels
won't turn, and the roads get heavier
and heavier"
Eve must 90 on. l promised to
keep Christmas Ev at Lynde."
1T looks, sir, more as if we'd spend
it buried in the snow"
Mount Gray?"
Il don't think we could return if
we tried" said the driver.
Then 90 on, said the Judge, an
grily. at only needs courage"
"Sylyia, do you hear? We are
| buried in the snowr' shrieked Mis-
| tress Damon, bursting into sobs.
I'D rather be buried in the. snow
than be taken to Lynde to marry a
man | have never Scent cries Sylvia,
bringing a lovely pink face, cloudy
blue eyes, and a ruifle of gold hair
out OF the fur depths of her cloak.
'It is judgment on You for trying
to make a girl break her solemn
promise, and marry one man when she
loves anotherr'
"Sylyia, your language is scandal
ous-a young girl so boldly asserting
her love for Il man, and demanding to
choose her own husband! The thing
is outrageous!' shouts the Judge.
"You think so, grandfather, because
you have lived all your life in France.
| think when a girl honestly loves a
good man, she should frankly say so.
love Roger North; and mind you, |
won't marry Count Chanlieu. III
say No to him and No to the
minister.
And I'll, say Yes for you; you
shall not marry a beggar."
''Roger is no beggar BY his art he
could gain all we need, and to me,
love is better than wealth."
''Chanlieu is the best man in the
world, son of my dearest friend, my
benefactor, who saved my life and
fortune. In ten years, Sylvia, you
will thank me for the husband to
whom give you"
Not unless you give me Roger
North"
Sylvia, until now you have obeyed
me-"
''Judgc!" cried the driver, s.we
cannot get on; l have lost the road"
And so, down the slopes of the
Blue Ridge, in fierce and sudden
snowstom, bringing premature win
ter, the great coach Of Judge Baird,
wherein are the Judge. and pretty
Sylvia, and Mistress Damon, half
nurse, half goyerncss of the mother
less girl, comes to grief.
The same terrible snowstorm piles
its great, soft flakes on the roof and
windows, and about the doors of a
tiny cottage perched on one of the
lower spurs of the Ridge. Within
fire blazes in wide chimney, and the
ruddy glow leaps over pictures on
easels, and pictures leaning against
the wall, huge st. Bernard dog
lying on a wolf-skin rug. and two
tall and strong young Saxons stretched
in big chairs.
One Saxon has a shining, wavy
name, like lions, over his shoulders,
and blonde and curly side-whiskers,
setting off very handsome face,
gloomy and wrathful. The other
athlete is close-shaved, and has a sug-
gestion of the clerical
Il say, North, remarked he of the
clerical, eve are likely to be block
AIDED for a month. | never saw such
snow here before. You are doomed to
paint all winter here"
Il was bound not to leave so long
as Judge Baird kept my little angel of
Sylvia up at Mount Gray" said the
artist.
Suppose he keeps her there all
winter?"
"Then I'll bide here all winter
''Do you suppose he will ever give
her to you. Nortl?"
mo. But she will be twentv-one in
about three Years, and then she can
give herself to me. He has set his
heart on her marrying someone else, |
think. But my Sylvia will be true;
she is the dearest little creature-so
gentle, but brave and faithful. l
wanted her to Just come off and marry
me this fall; but she said her grand
father had been so good to her that
she could not take such a step, unless
driven to extremity"
The dog lifted his head and whined.
North, l think l heard faint
shout; the dog hears it. too"
North opened the door sheltered by
the little porch. about which the snow
was piled high. He, too, heard the
cry.
Yes. Tafford, it is a cry for help
down below; someone is lost in the
snow"
Come. On to the rescue!' cried
the Rev. Mr.. Tafford, leaping UP with
JOY, for he was of aggressive make.
and loved alike a tilt with the elements
or theological foes.
There are some of my alpenstocks
up in the attic" said North, land two
or three pairs of snowshoes While |
get them, Tafford, you pile the fire up.
and set the coffee-pot on the hearth.
and hang blanket to heat. All close
reefed now, as TO trousers and coats?